


25 days of fic

by BruceBanner_CantHave_NiceThings



Category: The Avengers (Marvel Movies), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: Age Regression/De-Aging, Angst, Christmas Fluff, F/F, F/M, Flashbacks, Friendship, Gen, Getting Together, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Multi, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-25
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:47:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 17,673
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081734
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BruceBanner_CantHave_NiceThings/pseuds/BruceBanner_CantHave_NiceThings
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A collection of 25 prompt fics, one for each of the 25 days of Christmas, though not all are Holiday themed. All the story ideas come from prompts received from my tumblr followers. It is a mix of fandoms, genres and pairings.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. First Date

**Author's Note:**

> "First Date Fic between Nightcrawler and Storm" requested by rpepperpotsshipssciencebros

Kurt enjoys the feeling of sand between his toes. Looking out at the deep blue ocean, he knows he’s picked the perfect place.

Not just for the beauty, but because at the beach, you don’t have to wear shoes.

And seeing Ororo in her beautiful white two piece didn’t hurt.

He turns to look at her. He feels a pinch of worry. She looks uncomfortable.

"This is ridiculous, I’m old enough to be your—-" Ororo starts, before Kurt brakes in

"Girlfriend, yes liebling?" He says with a smile.

She shakes her head. “I’m starting to think I’m in over my head. You’ve got an answer for everything. Liebling means sweetheart, right?”

He nods, “Or darling, whichever you prefer”. He leads her closer to the water. There are few people on this particular beach, he choose it for that reason.

"Or darling," She finally smiles. Without thinking of it, it seems, she grabs one of his hands in her own. They stick their feet into the cool water. "And they say German is an angry language," She says.

He scoffs at that. “German is only angry if you use it in anger. Like any other language.”

Kurt reaches in the water with his unoccupied hand. He scoops up a bit of water and before she can react, he splashes his date with it. She removes her hands with a laugh and covers her face.

"Like lachen, to laugh. A beautiful word for a beautiful action. Even better when it comes from you."

Ororo wipes the water off her face. “If I didn’t know you better, I would say you’re full of something smelly.”

He puts his hand on his chest, in pretend shock. “Who, me? I’m completely earnest.”

"I know." She says, sweetly, before calling forth a huge wave of water and hitting him with it.

Kurt sputters, trying to clear his throat. Laughing and coughing, he stands to shake the water out of his fur. “This is war.”


	2. One Eyed, One Horned

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> " Hulk and Hawkeye exchange banter during a battle with the flying purple people eaters." requested by blackatdp

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Listen to this song while reading for the total experience: http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Rx47qrH1GRs

"Are you SHITTING me?" Clint asked.

"Nope." Hulk replied.

"Are those?"

"Yup."

"Like in the song?" 

Hulk looked at them again, just to make sure. “Yup.”

"One eyed, one horned…" He trailed on.

"Flying. Purple. People. Eaters."

Clint turned to look at him. “You saw them eating people and flying, are you sure?”

"Yup. Though they swallowed ‘em more than anything." 

Clint wrinkled his face, “Urgh, that’s so gross.”

Hulk nodded in assent.

"Sometimes it doesn’t pay to be an Avenger."

Hulk turned on him at that. “You mean you get PAID?” 

The creatures started to swarm to where they were.

"That’s what you want to talk about right now? not the purple people eaters?"

"HULK NEVER GOT PAID!" Hulk screamed, not even looking at the large alien coming toward him, and yet punching it right in the face. 

Then he jumped into the fray. The creatures covered his body, so that no speck of green was showing.

"It was a figure of speech!" Clint screamed, before diving in. 

Grubby purple hands were grabbing at every inch of him. For a moment one of his arms disappeared into a greedy little mouth, until he was wrenched away by another.

Hulk disappeared.

Then he saw the huge lump in the biggest purple eater’s stomach.

Oh, shit. 

The thing smiled, for a moment. And then it started to shake.

The scaly purple skin began to turn green, it’s eyes bulging out of it’s head.

It coughed and coughed, like it was…

Oh shit…oh god no.

It was gonna be sick.

The other creatures pulled away from him, watching  in shock. The creature that made the mistake of swallowing the Hulk was now developing sores. 

Big, gaping, bleeding sores. All over. 

"I’ll be damned." Clint whispered to himself, "Radiation poisoning."

The thing dropped to its knees and hacked and hacked, until it let loose a large pile of vomit,with  Hulk in the middle of it.

Then, it keeled over and stopped moving.

Hulk stood in his slimy triumph. The creatures tried to move away.

Hulk grabbed the nearest one by the middle and forced it’s mouth open.

"You’re not going anywhere," Hulk cried out, "Eat this!" and with that, he jumped in.

"Well huh," Clint said to himself. "Guess my job here’s done."


	3. Meeting the Family

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Clint Barton/Hank McCoy Holiday cheer" requested by 51pegasib

Hank relaxed into his couch, pulling Clint to sit on his lap.

"Well," He murmured into his lover’s neck, "That went much better than expected."

Clint nodded in ascent. “Logan only threatened me once. And that was over food.”

Hank chuckled lowly. “He is quite fond of the Christmas ham.”

Clint gave Hank his best ‘no shit’ look. Absentmindedly he began running his fingers through the fur on Hank’s chest. 

"That’s….yes. Well, hanging out with my fellow teammates was nice but, this is much nicer." He said, pulling Clint close enough to plant a light kiss on his mouth.

Clint moaned, something sounding like uh huh. Then he pulled Hank closer for another kiss.

"And to think we’ve only got to do this one more time." Hank said.

'This' was their arrangement. They would spend Christmas Eve with the X-Men at Xavier's and Christmas day with the Avengers in Avengers tower. 

Neither one of them truly talked about it for what it was, introducing their lover to the family. 

"I’ve gotta warn you thought," Clint said, as he pulled back. "You’re bound to get a shovel talk."

"Oh," Hank responded, raising an eyebrow, "From Agent Romanova no doubt. I hope you’ve let her know just how kind and cuddly I am."

Clint shook his head and laughed. “Not from Tasha, she knows I won’t put up with any shit. I’m talking about Hulk.”

Hank gulped at that. “The….the Hulk?” 

"Oh yeah, big green is very protective. Doesn’t help that you’re basically a large ball of fur and claws. Don’t worry though, he’ll only rough you up a little."

Hank looked at him, square in the eye. “You…you’re making this up. You’re trying to scare me!” At least, that was what he hoped.

Clint couldn’t keep it up anymore. He reared back in laughter. 

"You should’ve seen your face. I swear, you turned purple."

"That’s not funny, Clint. I was having visions of being a furry puddle of Hulk smashed."

Hank didn’t stop his own laughter from coming out, however. They clutched each other, bowed over in their own laughter.

After some deep breathing and concentration (and multiple gales of laughter) they finally calmed down.

"I was serious ‘bout the shovel talk, though."

"You were?" Hank asked, flatly.

Clint nodded, extremely serious. “Not many people know this, but Hulk’s basically a big green guard dog.”

Hank contemplated that for a minute. “Well then, he deserves my thanks.”

Clint tilted his head at that. “He does?”

"Yes," Hank said, rubbing Clint’s back. "For protecting the most important person in the world to me, when I’m not around to."

"Does that mean I have to thank Wolverine for the same?" Clint said, a note of disgust in his voice.

"Oh god no. You can thank Jean or Rogue for that."


	4. To the Heart, Through the Stomach

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Budding Steve and Thor Friendship" requested by Squirreltastic

"What is this called?" Thor asked, pointing at the dip…thing in front of him.

Steve shook his head. “I think it’s hummus. From the Middle East, right?”

Steve didn’t know who he was asking, he and Thor were alone in the Tower’s kitchen.

JARVIS popped up “Yes sir, it is indeed hummus.”

Both Steve and Thor jumped out of their seats at that, just a little.

"I find this technology disturbing," Thor muttered, dipping some chips in the hummus and devouring them.

"You know, buddy, so do I."

"I rather think hummus is better with the pita bread to your left, Master Thor."

"Is all Midguardian technology this judgmental, Steven?" Thor asked.

Steve couldn’t help but laugh. “I think it’s a Stark Tech thing.”

They were surrounded by food of various kinds. From the typical junk food that even Steve could recognize, along with the occasional cold sandwich to things he never even heard of before today.

"My treat, for you two human vacuum cleaners. If you’re gonna eat me out of house and home, at least mix it up every once in a while." Tony had said, before having the food brought in.

Steve had to admit he had a point. Thor’s diet had been extensively meat and mead before this. He thought he was a little better.

Thor wiped his hand on the napkin in front of him and took a drink of something vaguely smelling of coffee.

"I do not know what this is either," Thor remarked, "but it is remarkably wonderful. Not the regular Midguardian coffee, I do not think. Here, taste," Thor said, handing Steve his cup.

It wasn’t like either of them could really get sick, per se, but Steve had his own cup. But Steve couldn’t help being charmed by it.

Steve obliged him by taking a sip.

And promptly spat it out.

"That is not coffee. It brings shame to the name coffee."

Thor pulled back in mock horror. “I will not see you dishonor this most valiant drink. What is it called, JARVIS the judgmental one?”

"That," JARVIS said, sounding more amused than any AI should, "Is a cappuccino with a double pump of french vanilla syrup."

"Disgusting." Steve said, making a face. "Why did anyone think they could improve on coffee?"

"Does that mean you will not be drinking your own cup?" Thor asked, thoughtfully.

"It’s all yours," Steve snapped, shoving the cup in Thor’s direction.

"Most excellent," Thor replied, stroking the cup lightly. "Steven here simply does not appreciate you. His tastes aren’t as dignified as mine, do not take it to heart."

He couldn’t help but laugh, which was apparently what Thor was hoping for, because he burst into gleeful laughter too.

"One of these days," Steve said, wiping tears from his eyes, "I’m gonna show you what real coffee tastes like."

"Oh I have partaken in all sorts of coffee, Captain, and I declare this to be the very best."

"Next you’ll be saying Chicago Pizza is better than New York."

"Is it not?" Thor asked quizzically, "I find the deeper pizza to be more satisfying than that thin flabby kind the people of this state prefer."

"Are you kidding me? You…that’s sacrilegious, do you know that? You’re insulting an institution here. Once we finally put all this food away," Steve said, waving an arm at the spread in front of them, "I’ll get you the best pizza this state has to offer and you’ll shudder to think you used to like Chicago pizza."

"I am not one to back down from a challenge," Thor responded, "But I do not shift allegiances easily. You will have to work hard to win me to this…cardboard with sauce you call a meal."

"Oh, cardboard with sauce?" Steve asked, " Let’s put this food away and take this to the gym, yeah? I’ll make you regret those words."

"I’d be delighted to." Thor replied. 

After the ‘fighting’ and the pizza, dinner and conversation became their thing. Bruce and Tony had science, Natasha and Clint had their spy business and Thor and Steve had good food and good company.


	5. Home

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Two days before their first Christmas together, Clint has to tell Bruce he’s going out on a mission" requested by rpepperpotsshipssciencebros.

Clint is packing.

He’s going to meet a plane…somewhere.

To go…someplace 

To do…something. 

It’s all Bruce is allowed to know.

Stupid cloak and dagger SHIELD shit.

But he smiles. 

"Want me to help you pack?" He asks. He wants to be supportive.

"Nah. I’ve got it babe." Clint says, without looking at him. 

Bruce stands absentmindedly in their room. He starts wringing his hands and forces them in his pockets. He won’t make Clint feel bad about this.

_He won’t._

How many times in the past did he blow off time with Betty for work? And he knew this going in.

That Clint could be called at any time to do some secretly and highly dangerous work.

It’s part of the package. 

Clint stops packing, and without looking at him says, “I can feel you brooding.”

"I don’t brood."

Clint finally looked at him. “You do. You’re the king of brooding. I know this sucks. Majorly. But I’ll make it up to you. Hell, if I do this right, and damn fast, we can possibly have New Years.”

"Don’t do anything foolish. The kind of things you do…probably isn’t good to rush them." 

"Hey," Clint says softly, taking his face in one hand, "I’m damn good at what I do, alright. And I never do sloppy work. But can you blame me if I wanna get home to you as soon as possible?"

Bruce touches the hand holding his face and smiles. “Probably not half as much as I want you to be home.”

Clint looks worried at that. He drops the hand. “Are you sayin’ you don’t want me to go?”

"No, I wouldn’t. I know how important your work is. And hell, I’ve never been big on holidays, I told you that."

_I don’t want you to go. Don’t go. I’ll miss you._

He thinks these things. But he can’t say them. He doesn’t want to be too needy. Too exposed.

It’s their first Christmas together, they’ve been “Clint and Bruce” for about six months and everything’s been deceptively smooth.

He doesn’t want to roughen the waters. Or make Clint feel guilty.

But he doesn’t want to be alone. It hits him hard, seeing Clint pack.

For the first time in years, he desperately needs someone in his life. And will feel pain, actual pain, at his absence. 

"That’s what you say, and then you go and buy a Christmas tree, set a day for us to decorate it and bake cookies. Hell you’ve even got the ugly Christmas sweater." Clint says, pointing at the sweater Bruce is wearing.

It’s bright red, with trees all over it. The decorations on the trees shine.

"You think this is ugly?" He asks. He thought it was quite handsome.

"You don’t? God…" Clint shakes his head. "Never-mind. You can admit that this sucks, alright? You don’t have to be so damn….agreeable all the time."

"I’m not. I disagree with you on things. I said we weren’t getting a pet snake."

"But that’s different. Tell me, Bruce. For once, just, tell me. Don’t bottle it up and pretend that makes it ok."

Bruce looks down at his feet. “There’s no way to change it, is there? So why dwell on it?”

"Oh for Christ’s sake!" Clint exclaims, before taking Bruce in his arms. "Even though you signed up for this by dating me, you can admit that it sucks, alright? That you don’t like my job, hell that you wish I worked somewhere else. Other couples say that shit all the time."

Bruce finally looks at him. He doesn’t know what his face is doing, but apparently it’s something sad, because Clint looks at him sympathetically.

"Hey. Just tell me what’s going on in that big brain, alright? That’s all I want." Clint says, rubbing his back. Bruce practically melts.

"I want you here, Clint. For the first time in years, I’ve gotten to where I can’t cope with being alone anymore. Where I want someone to share the holidays with. And you’re leaving. And I hate it but…I don’t want to do anything that’ll push you away."

Clint pulls him in for a hug and holds him, just a little. He finally pulls away to look at him.

"How? By needing me? You’re not clingy, Bruce. You’re a strong independent scientist who can take care of himself. But I like bein’ needed, sometimes. And wanted. Not gonna scare me off with that."

Bruce can’t supress the feelings welling up inside of him. The desperate need to touch, to feel Clint against him. He grabs onto Clint’s shirt and pulls him close. 

He tilts his head to the right, knowing that Clint usually goes to the left. First they kiss softly, their mouths closed. Then Bruce can feel Clint’s tongue caressing his bottom lip, so he opens his mouth.

Clint strokes under his tongue, long and slow touches. Bruce can’t do anything else but melt into it. 

It’s sweet and it’s brief. Clint needs to get going. Before he can completely pull away, Bruce pulls him closer.

"I guess if the Other Guy can’t scare you away from me, nothing can."

"Well," Clint says with a smile, "More sweaters like that might do the trick."

Bruce shakes his head. “The ugliest Christmas sweater in the world couldn’t scare you away from me. And do you know why?”

Clint shakes his head. “Enlighten me.”

Bruce has been enlightened as well. Clint, who has walls around him just as impenetrable as Bruce’s, who keeps his deepest thoughts as close as he can, expressed a want and need to Bruce tonight that he’d never imagined.

"Because. You need me. At the very least I motivate you to come home."

 _I show you that you have a home, you little runaway._  Running away to join the circus, running away to missions with SHIELD. Nothing tethering him, holding him back.

"Nah baby," Clint says, giving him a quick peck on the cheek, "You are my home."


	6. Love, Keisha Jones

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Something having to do with Hulk and Christmas," requested by blackatdp.

” ~~Dear Mr. Hulk~~

  “Dear Hulk,

  I should have written this letter over a year ago, but back then I didn’t really understand who you are. The military has been spreading so many lies about you and the other part of you for years and it’s only been recently that you’ve been referred to as something other than dangerous.

 I’m sorry to say, I even doubted if you were able to read or speak, let alone be a hero.

My daughter never doubted you though.

Here name is Keisha and she was 6 during the Battle of New York.

Her day care was almost destroyed (it was located in Building 2). Her classmates were running around scared and crying. The workers didn’t know what to do. 

These kids all thought they were going to get, in my daughters words “eaten up by the large worm.”

Then you showed up and, again in her words, “the Hulk made the monster go away.”

Months afterword, she started having nightmares about aliens. Not just the worms, but the guy with the huge glowing stick. That he would stab her with it, or that one of the soldiers would tear her up.

The only thing my husband and I could tell her, that would calm her down, is that the Hulk won’t let that happen.

We’ve got her into therapy, which has helped. But you’ve helped most of all.

Last Christmas, we bought her a Hulk doll. She started carrying it around with her everywhere. She even started sleeping with it. And, since then, she doesn’t have nearly as many nightmares. I asked her why she thought that was and she gave me this look like, “Don’t you get it, Mamma?” and she said “Because Hulk makes the monsters go away.”

Even in her dreams, you protect her. You’ve made it safe for her to sleep.

My husband and I don’t wake up to her crying and screaming anymore and she rarely thinks about being hurt by the monsters. 

That’s the most wonderful thing we could ask for, especially in this world of aliens that we live in now.

There is no way for me to repay you for that. But I think there’s something I can do.

I mentioned how the military has said all those horrible things about you, right? Well a week ago, Keisha and I were watching a report about you. The man, some older general, was talking about what a menace you were. Keisha about had a fit. “He’s not a monster!” She said, jumping up and down. “You shouldn’t call people names like that, it’s mean.”

Later that night, she cried about it. Because maybe Hulk felt bad about being called names. And, since you protected her, you shouldn’t be made to feel bad.

So she decided to get you a Christmas present. She bought it with her own money. It’s enclosed with this letter.

Thank you so much

Sincerely,

Henrietta Jones.”

Tony finishes reading the letter and looks up at him. Silently he comes toward Hulk, something behind his back.

He holds it out with a smile, “Think this is yours, big guy.”

He takes it without a word. He can barely see it. Tears are welling up in his eyes.

After wiping them with one big hand, he sees what it is. A plaque.

The front is all gold, with the words in black. “To Hulk” It starts out. “For making the monsters go away. No matter what mean army guys say, you are my hero”

He gets misty eyed again before he can read the final words. He hands it back to Tony.

Hulk doesn’t want to break it and his hands are shaking.

So Tony reads the plaque to the group. And finally, the ending “Love, Keisha Jones.”


	7. It's a Wonderful Life

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bruce/Tony, good holiday memories," requested by 51pegasib

It was going so well, until it wasn’t.

He was curled up against Tony’s side, resting against his shoulder. Tony, with his arm around Bruce’s waist. Their bodies, growing weary after the gigantic Christmas Dinner Tony ordered for the team.

The team then promptly went to their own quarters, leaving “the lovebirds to it,” Clint said.

Then Tony just had to turn on the TV. 

Right to a “Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer” marathon.

"Keep it there," Bruce said, "I’ve never seen this."

Tony turned to look at him. “You haven’t seen Rudolph? Seriously?”

Bruce squirmed. “I just…never got around to it. Christmas wasn’t exactly fun for me growing up.”

Tony made a face. His patented, “I’ve really fucked up this time,” face. 

"It’s alright," Bruce said, patting Tony’s leg. "You didn’t know."

"God. I. Am. An. Ass." Tony said, putting the remote down.

"You’re not, seriously. At least not now. I mean, we’ve both gone through some trying times, right? How could we avoid bringing up bad things all the time, even accidentally? We’d have to walk around eggshells around each other. I don’t want that." Bruce said, turning his body to face Tony.

Tony sighed. “If you ever step in it with me, don’t even apologize. I’m writing you a ‘get out of guilt’ free card right now, for what just happened.”

"Gee, thanks. The greatest gift I’ve ever gotten. I won’t let you forget that."

Tony smiled. “And it’s not like I’ve never had a good Christmas,” Bruce continued. “I’ve seen Christmas movies too. In fact, I’ve seen _It’s a Wonderful Life_ 7 times, back to back.”

"You like that movie that much? I mean come on, Capra really poured on the schmaltz. Can’t believe you didn’t go insane."

Bruce reached over and flicked Tony’s ear. While Tony rubbed his ear with an expression of faux hurt, Bruce continued.

"My mom had a thing for Jimmy Stewart."

"Oh yeah? The goofy yet attractive all American boy was her thing? Too bad she never got to meet Cap."

Bruce barked out a laugh. “Yeah, I think they would’ve hit it off.”

"So," Tony said, turning to him, "Spill. Tell me about the marathon Christmas."

"Why?" Bruce asked.

"Because it sounds like a good story? Because I think you want to? Hell, because your mom sounds adorable and I want to know more about her? Maybe I get a kick knowing there was one day in your childhood that didn’t completely suck."

Bruce knew the last point was probably closer to the truth than the rest. That was Tony’s way, hiding real caring behind blunt words.

"Alright," Bruce said, settling into the couch. "I was 6. My…he was at some kind of military thing. Left the week before Christmas. Mom and I, we didn’t know what to do with ourselves, you know? For a few days, we just pretended he was there. It was so quiet, I think we did go a little crazy.

But, after a while, we got used to it. It was like a vacation. Mom would turn her music up as loud as it would go and dance around the kitchen. I got to do my own science experiments, right in the living room. 

For the first time in a long time, we could actually breathe.” Bruce caught himself breathing deeply. 

Tony stared at him, the perfect audience.

"Well, we spent that week dancing and doing experiments until Christmas week. Then mom bought this really large tree and we decorated it while she waited for the cookies to bake. It was as Norman Rockwell as anything I’ve ever had. On Christmas day, we went to mass."

"I didn’t know you were a Catholic, Bruce."

"I’m not, not anymore. But she was. Brian didn’t believe in religion, thought it rotted your brain. So she didn’t really get to go all that much. But with him gone, she finally did. It wasn’t anything to me, but it was so important to her. She wore her prettiest dress and actually managed to tame my hair. The church was so big and bright. That’s what I remember, being engulfed in light. I had no idea what the priest was saying, but being with my mom in that bright and warm place, seeing her so happy, it was perfect."

"That’s beautiful, Bruce, truly. But where does _It’s a Wonderful Life_ come in?"

"Oh, that’s what happened after mass. We rushed home, got into our pajamas and relaxed on the couch. She turned on the TV and screamed. For a minute I thought something was wrong."

Bruce felt his face contorting into sorrow, just a bit. It was one of the few times he heard his mother scream in happiness.

"I jumped back and she screams, "JIMMY STEWART! WE’VE GOT TO WATCH IT, BRUCE!" So I went and got cookies and milk and we watched _It’s a Wonderful Life_. She knew every line of that movie. When it got to the part where George tells Mary that he’s going to lasso the moon for her, I swear, my mom cried a little."

"Stewart was a damn fine actor." Tony said. There were words he wasn’t saying there too. Bruce caught them easily. They both knew that wasn’t why Rebecca cried. She was longing for something she didn’t have.

"He was. The movie went off and the announcer came on, saying "We’re just in our 6 hour of the Wonderful Life marathon, 10 more hours to go." and she gives me this ridiculous smile and raises her eyebrow at me, asking me, "do we risk it?" And we did. I know every word of that damn movie to this day."

Bruce moved away from Tony, so he could compose himself. Tears welled up in his eyes, and stayed there.

He felt a hand on his back. “That’s a great story, Bruce. I knew it would be.”

"What about you?" Bruce asked, turning back to him. "Got any great Christmas stories?"

"Well yeah," Tony replied, "Got a great one about me and 6 of the Rockettes."

Bruce rolled his eyes. “Not that kinda story, Tony.”

Tony sighed. “Alright fine. You want schmaltzy Christmas tales of my childhood? Here it is. Christmas, I was 9. Howard and Mom had this really big party with all their celebrity friends. Dancing, booze, the works. I don’t think either of them said a word to me that entire day. Jarvis, the real live butler, not my AI, he’s the one who woke me up, who opened presents with me.”

"That sounds remarkably sad, actually."

"I’ve got nothing to complain about, especially compared to you."

"It’s not a contest." Bruce said, trying to be gentle.

"Whatever. Still, makes me feel bad complaining. At least I felt safe, you know? Anyway, the party starts to get a little rowdy. Some people just go insane with booze."

This time, Tony didn’t noticed when he ‘stepped in it’ and Bruce refused to remind him.

"Bottles get thrown, people scream. I can’t remember why. So Jarvis, without even telling my parents, bundles me up in my coat and takes me out of there. We just get in his car and drive. He turns on the radio and blasts the Christmas carols. Over and over. I tell him, "J, your taste in music sucks," to which he replies, "Tonight, you shall celebrate Christmas as a boy your age should." And we drive around and around, I have no idea where we’re going. I guess I should’ve been worried, I mean technically I was being kidnapped. But it was nice and I trusted Jarvis more than anyone."

Bruce wondered, for a moment, if that wasn’t still true.

"Finally we pull into a parking lot. I can’t believe it for a minute, that we’re really going here, of all places. ‘Jarvis," I ask him, throwing the bratty rich kid act right out the window. I was so excited "are we really eating here?"

"Indeed, Master Stark," He replies, "It’s the only restaurant open for miles. I’ve seen your eyes light up when we’ve driven past it before."

"Where was it?" Bruce chimed in.

"McDonalds," Tony said, with reverence.

"McDonalds. That’s what you were so excited for?"

"Well yeah, my parents would never let me eat there. I had my first extremely unhealthy fast food burger that day. It was love at first bite."

"Thats…" Incredibly sad? Explains a lot? "That’s really sweet."

"Yeah well, that’s the best childhood Christmas story I’ve got. We ate inside and everything. The cashiers wishing they didn’t have to be there. I found out later that Jarvis called them days ahead of time, begging them to be open on Christmas. He was gonna take me anyway, only after the party. He had to push things up though. Apparently he convinced my dad to pay them handsomely. Dad didn’t quite know what he was paying for, only that it was Tony’s Christmas present."

Bruce laid back down at Tony’s side, drawing Tony’s arm around his waist. “I wish I could’ve met Jarvis. He sounds great.”

"You know, so does your mom. I’m glad you had someone like her."

Bruce looked at him in shock.

"I know, I know. You’re expecting a quip any time now. But I mean it, I’m glad you had your Jimmy Stewart Christmas."

Bruce leaned over and kissed him on his cheek, “And I’m glad you got to spend Christmas at McDonalds.”

"Does this compare, at all? I mean, I think we did Christmas pretty damn good this year."

"Yes we did," Bruce said, with a yawn, "And I have a feeling it’ll only get better from here."


	8. Roots

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Clint and Phil, buying a house," requested by featheredschist.

They’ve been at it all day.

Surrounded by newspapers, checking on their phones, desperately searching for the right place. 

Phil does it with resigned patience, Clint with unspoken resolve. He scans each advertisement with the same intensity he normally takes to assignments. 

Phil has no idea why it means so much to him. Clint’s never really been a home body. Even in Avengers Tower, the closest thing Clint’s had to a home in years, he rarely even lives here.

What will they do with a house?

"Don’t you think this is a bit…well pointless?" Phil says, gesturing to the papers. 

"Naw," Clint says, taking a drink of coffee, "It’s extremely pointy." He shakes his head, "You know what I mean."

"Clint," Phil says, putting his hand on Clint’s wrist, "What’s the point of a house we’re barely going to live in? We both have our safe houses and we rarely even use those. It’s just a waste of money."

Clint pulls back from him, “Well SHIELD makes damn sure we have a ton of money to waste. So what’s the problem?” He turns back to the papers.

"What about the tower? Isn’t this home enough for you?" 

"What? Living off of Stark? He’s a great guy but, I’m a guest. I’m just living here. It’s not mine. It’s not ours."

"And that’s important to you?" 

Clint finally looks at him. “Damn straight it’s important. I’m sick and fucking tired, Phil. Tired of having to take you to safe houses and hotels to have sex with you. You deserve better.”

Phil looks at him pointedly, “That shouldn’t be an issue. Stark and Banner seem to make do making love in the tower.”

"But that’s different. This is Stark’s tower. Their home. It’s like we’re in high school and I’m borrowing a friend’s place to spend a little time with my boyfriend."

Phil looks perplexed, “And you don’t like that? I’ve always found it…fun.”

Clint sighs. “That’s not the point. It isn’t ours. I want a house, for us. Just us. I want to have a dog with you.”

"A…dog?"

"Yeah. A dog. Our dog. In our house. With our food and our garage, which I’ll fill with junk and it’ll piss you off. I want to have neighbors, who think of us as the quiet gay guys across the street. I want to come home to you at night, as much as possible, in a bed we bought together."

Phil raises his eyebrows at this, taking it all in. Clint wants something…steady with him. He wants to put down roots. It’s not about sex at all.

It’s about home.

Without betraying too much on his face (it’s what he gets paid for, after all), Phil pulls up another advertisement on his phone, “Here’s a colonial outside Albany. Has 2 bathrooms.” He shows Clint the ad.

"Nice yard. For the dog you know."

Phil just smiles.


	9. Family

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Christmas at Avengers Tower" requested by blackatdp

The lights are down low.

The gigantic Christmas tree glitters in the corner, deprived of presents that have been unwrapped and cooed over.

On the TV, Rudolph the Red-nosed Reindeer plays as the team sits together on the couch, Thor and Steve sprawled out on the floor.

They all have eggnog and full stomachs from the extremely expensive dinner Tony generously paid for.

And he is miserable. “Oh come on guys, Heff’s having a huge party up in Malibu, said it might last all week. It’ll be great.”

"No" Steve and Natasha chime in at the same time.

"What is it?" Tony says, turning to where Natasha sits, curled up at his right. "You don’t like the look of so much female flesh on display? Don’t worry, there’ll be plenty of hot guys for you to pick from."

"It’s not that I don’t appreciate the female form Tony," She says with a smile as Clint lets out an angry cry of, "Her boyfriend’s right here, asshole!"

"But that is not how I want to spend our first Christmas as a…."

"Brotherhood of warriors, much like a second family." Thor says, before taking a big swig of his eggnog.

"One, there is no such thing as taken when you go to a Playboy Bunny Christmas extravaganza and two, that is exactly how we should spend Christmas. Don’t you usually booze it up and cause chaos in your celebrations back home, big guy?" Tony asks hopefully to the demigod stretching back on his floor like a large cat.

"Oh, Tis true enough. But that is back home. When in Midguard, do as the Midguardians do. And it seems that quiet evenings at home are a more appropriate expression of bonding in this time of your lord Jesus."

Thor says that last bit smiling at Steve. 

Tony sets off an internal reminder to get those two in the direction of some mistletoe, stat. 

"Well I prefer to celebrate this time of bonding with a trip to Malibu."

Bruce pipes up from his left. “You just don’t like to sit still. You’re like a shark. Always have to be moving, causing trouble.” He gently pulls Tony up to his feet.

"Come on." He says, trying to pull Tony out of the room.

"Hey wait, where’re we goin’? You think you can manhandle me in my own house?"

"Yes. I think I can. I know just what’ll cheer you up."

"Oh," Tony asks, and what is that."

"Well," Bruce responds, "We, that’s you and me," He says, pointing at Tony and then himself, " Are going down to the lab. And we are going to blow some stuff up. Maybe with fireworks, Red and Green ones, of course."

Tony feels his face light up. “Will it get messy?”

Bruce smiles, “Maybe.”

"I don’t know if I’m ok with this," Steve opines from the floor.

"It’ll get Stark to calm down," Clint points out.

"Yes, let the boys have their fun, they need to let out this destructive energy," Natasha says in a serene voice.

Tony leans in toward Bruce, “Will it be dangerous?” 

Bruce shrugs, “Would you have it any other way?”

Tony puts his arm around Bruce and this time it is he who is pulling Bruce out of the room.

"Going out with my best friend to blow stuff up, mom. Promise I’ll be back before bedtime." He calls over his shoulder. With that, they’re gone.

"He was talking to you," Natasha says, smiling at Steve.

"Me?"

"You’re the motherliest of us all," Clint says with a laugh.

"Why can’t Natasha be the mother?"

"I could be, but not in our group situation. That’s not the role I fill."

"And which role would that be?" Steve asks.

"The cool aunt who lets the kids blow stuff up when mom says no."

She practically beams at Steve from above her mug.

Steve smiles in return. “Well, when they’re too hyper to go to bed, they’ll be your problem, Aunt Natasha.”


	10. Reward

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Clintasha winter OP" requested by 51pegasib

It’s December 26 and instead of being at home eating leftovers, Clint and Natasha are on a godforsaken roof in Norway.

There is no inch of his body that isn’t cold. The binoculars almost froze to his eyes, earlier. He had to hurry into their safe house to warm up.

Even his toes don’t want to cooperate. They barely move in his boots. 

"Urgh, I hate winter assignments. And in a fuckin’ Nordic country," Clint says, reaching for the coffee jug and spinning the cap off.

"Don’t be such a baby, it isn’t that cold," Natasha says, from behind the same binoculars that almost became permanently attached to Clint’s face.

Clint pushes his head back and takes a long swig of coffee. He moans as the warmth of it spreads to the pit of his stomach.

"It  _is_  that cold, Colder than cold even. The icicles have icicles,” He says, pointing to a large drop of ice that seems to be covered in other, littler drops of ice. “You’re just cold blooded. Unfeeling.”

"No, I’m just Russian."

Clint looks at her. “That’s your excuse for everything.”

"But it’s true" She says, taking the coffee from him and handing him back the binoculars. "I grew up in the cold. My body is used to it."

"Then maybe you don’t need my help with this assignment. I can just pack up and go home. Get the feeling back in my toes."

She turns to him. “You know why you’re here, we need your eyes. Now keep watch.”

"Like you don’t have two very good eyes of your own," He mumbles.

"Yes, but I’m not called Hawkeye. This is your specialty. You can differentiate between specs of humanity from this distance at a success rate of 90%. I—-"

He interrupts her. “I hate to interrupt that sentence,” He says, “but that’s the guy, right there, stumbling out of that bar.” He points.

"Oh," She says. She blinks before getting up to leave. "I guess you can go home now."

"Not until I hear the end of that sentence. You can sweet talk me along the way." He gets up and follows her down the drop ladder.

"Maybe later Clint."

"Oh no, you were talkin’ about how awesome I am and how much you need me."

"How much SHIELD needs you."

"Nope, he says, "That last sentence ended with ‘I’. What do you think of me, Tasha."

"I think I hate you." 

"Liar. You love me."

"Can we talk about this  _after_  we nab the guy and get that bomb he’s been building?”

Clint nods, “Oh definitely. We will definitely talk about this later, at length. I plan on spending hours listening to you talk about how great I am.”

"If you shut up, right now, when we get back to the tower, I’ll show you how great I think you are."

Clint gasps at that and opens his mouth to speak, “I——”

Natasha puts a finger on his lips. “Shhhh. don’t speak. just follow me.”

He nods. 

Then they go and save the day, again. He doesn’t say a word until they get back to the tower.

And he is rewarded well for it.


	11. Their Damaged Souls

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "A De-Aged Avengers Holiday Tale" requested by 51pegasib

The God’s work in strange ways. Great miracles do they perform. Thor has learned these Midguardian phrases from Steve.

There are many kinds of Gods, as Thor has always known. What he does not know is which gods enacted this magic on his friends on this particular day.

Christmas day, to be exact. 

He awoke to find his team had regressed in age. Bruce at 7 is the oldest. Clint and Tony coming right behind at 6. Steve is 5 and Natasha a very tiny 4.

It was a very chaotic morning. Natasha only cried a little to find her parents were no there.

Neither Bruce nor Clint cried. They accepted it as the norm. Parents disappear, you wake up in a strange place, all apart of life really.

But they were surprised to find presents with their names on them under the tree. The presents for their adult versions had disappeared. Instead replaced with presents for their childhood selves.

Thor was surprised at that as well.

SHIELD has their magic consultants working on it. (Thor wonders if SHIELD has consultants on everything, best not to ask). 

Currently Steve is laying on his belly, drawing a picture on his new artist’s pad. He keeps wiping his nose with his sleeve. His very tiny frame is a carrier for many an illness, as Thor found out earlier.

Phil had dropped off a bag full of “stuff….things the kids might need”

And good for that, otherwise the good Captain’s little self might not have survived.

In the middle of wrapping presents, he had gone into a fit. He fell on his back and started gasping. Tony, thinking it was some sort of game, fell at his side and imitated him.

"THAT IS NOT FUNNY!" Thor snapped, before he could think better of it.

The kids all stopped and stared. Bruce took off to hide behind the couch and Clint placed himself in front of Natasha (the only one who didn’t seem scared) using his body as a shield.

Thor didn’t have time to apologize for that. Instead he rummaged through the bag, looking for the little piece of portable magic that would cure Steve’s fit. 

He handed it to Steve and told him to press the button and breath, which he did. The relief on his little face was heart wrenching.

Thor turned to Tony, still laying on the ground. Tony gave him a beautiful smile. 

That is what he wants, Thor realized, attention. Much like his older counterpart. He cried for it, begged for it. Even bad attention was attention and therefore worth it. 

So Thor ignored him. Tony went to drag Bruce from behind the couch, instead.

Currently Natasha is twirling around the floor. “I’m a ballerina” she cries out in Russian as she spins. “Lookit Thor, I’m a ballerina” she calls out as she spins faster and faster and falls right on her rear.

Thor cannot help it, he roars with laughter. “You are quite a dashing ballerina, Natasha.” 

It is quite shocking to see her so carefree and happy. She is unmarked by her future. She is free of spying and violence. Her hair is a darker color of red, it reaches only to under her chin.

Her laughter is loud and beautiful, like none he has ever heard from her.

She is unmarked by her future and he wishes he could keep it that way.

Natasha gets herself up and begins to twirl again. Clint gets up and begins to twirl with her. He is already….Thor doesn’t want to think the word, ‘tainted’ but he does. He can still smile and twirl around the floor, but his gaze is guarded. 

 _He_ is guarded. Wants to protect himself and those around him. The price for being raised by a tyrant. 

Yet he twirls with a little Russian girl that he doesn’t know. He laughs and spins faster and faster. They bump into each other and fall down.

Thor gets up, worried there will be tears. Instead they rub their noses, in tandem, and begin to laugh. Clint gets up and pulls Natasha up as well and then they’re off again.

Bruce watches all from the corner where Tony is nattering at him. If Clint’s father was a tyrant, Bruce’s was an abomination. Bruce looks up at Thor, sizing him up. He hasn’t spoken a word since Thor’s outburst of anger. 

Tony sees Bruce’s attention has been diverted and he isn’t one to take that. So he pulls at Bruce’s sleeve and directs him to look at Tony while he talks. 

To Thor’s surprise, Bruce smiles at that. Little Bruce has been virtually untouchable. Physical contact has been almost completely ruined for him, no matter how much he craves it. But Tony’s meaningless chatter seems to have calmed him down some. 

From what Bruce has told them over time, this is also something he did not have as a little one. 

He turns to look back at Steve again. His tiny body gives Thor pause. He knows Steve was born into a time of famine and strife. His little body rarely got the amount and quality of food that it craved. That is why Steve is now lying on the floor. The richness of their Christmas feast has all but incapacitated him. But it is a happily brought illness.

Because Steve is drowsy with a full stomach, something he too used to lack.

As a child, Thor lacked nothing. No comfort or food was denied him, no love withheld. These children surrounding him were not so lucky. Today they are warm, happy and contented. 

They have not lived the future’s that will make them who they are.

While SHIELD’s magicians are trying to figure out a cure, Thor can’t help but hope that they will not succeed. Then these children can have the lives they were so cruelly denied.

But, without what they had gone through, would they not be the heroes they are?

Does not the future need their hunger, their watchful eyes and spy training? Their need for attention and their burning anger?

Would not the world fall apart without their damaged souls?

Thor does not bother to wipe his tears away. They are a mark of his caring for the wonderful, tainted people around him.

"Why’re you crying, Mr.Thor?" Steve asks.

"It is just over something silly, little one." Thor responds.

"What?" Clint chirps at him, coming to see the very large man crying on the couch.

"I am simply crying for what cannot be."

He gets up and goes to the bathroom, removing his sadness from their happy day, until he can cheer himself up.


	12. Old Married Couple

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tony/Pepper, Pepper wants sex more than Tony" requested by 51pegasib   
> Warning: mild sexual situations

It’s 2 in the morning when Tony finally makes it to bed. 

Pepper’s on him in a snap. 

Before his ass is completely on the bed, she starts kissing his neck. He pats her head halfheartedly. 

"Mmmm, that feels good babe."

"Well this will feel even better," She says, before sucking at the juncture between his neck and shoulder. He throws his head back and lets out a moan.

"Ooh yes that’s so…." and then he breaks out in a yawn. "So great."

"Did you just yawn at me?"

"Ignore it. Just a little…." and then he yawns again.

Pepper gets off the bed and in his line of sight.

What she sees is not at all promising. “Oh my god, Tony you’re completely out of it.” And it’s true. His eyelids droop and it draws her eye to the crows feet at the corner of those beautiful orbs. 

It makes her heart ache, just a little. 

"I’m not out of it, trust me." He goes to stand up and his body simply doesn’t want to, so he sinks back into bed. 

"Come down here, babe," He says, pulling Pepper half on top of him.

She moves her fingers through his hair and he kisses her, softly on the mouth. “That’s better.”

"Do you really have the energy for this right now?" She asks. She’s been waiting for this all day but he looks so tired.

"I always have the energy for this," He says, giving her ass a squeeze.

"Ooh, you definitely know what I like, Mr. Stark."

His eyes sparkle at that. “Is that the game we’re playing, Ms. Potts?”

She practically purrs at him, “Only if you play your cards right.” Then she leans in and slowly, oh so slowly, licks the outer rim of his ear. He lets his head fall back with a moan. 

As she’s sucking his earlobe she notices something has changed in his bearing. The hand on her ass has gone slack.

She looks up at his face and moves off of him quick.

"Are you freakin’ serious?" She says, stamping her foot. Tony has fallen asleep.

"Tony!" She exclaims, kicking him in the shin.

"Ohh baby, that feels good," He mumbles to himself.

"Wake up."

"Wha…I’m wake…I’m awake." He says, looking around the room without processing it. 

Pepper knows defeat when she looks in its sleepy face. 

She calmly goes to her side of the bed and crawls in to the covers. 

"What’s wrong?" He asks, his hand on her arm.

"Just go to sleep old man." She responds, pulling said hand around her waist.

"Old man? I am young and virile thank you," He says, pulling her closer and wrapping the cover around them both.

"Well I say you’re my old man and you need sleep."

Tony sighs. “Can’t say no to that. Sorry, old lady.”

Pepper practically squawks in indignation, “I’m only 35 thank you!”

"Yeah, like five years ago."

"Sleep now. Before I forget how cute you are and start throwing things."

"Love you too, sweetie. JARVIS, lights out."

Then they are left holding each other in the dark and slowly drifting off to sleep.


	13. Quickie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Natasha/Pepper-a quickie" requested by 51pegasib
> 
> warning: contains explicit sexual content
> 
> красивый means beautiful in Russian

She knows she shouldn’t be doing this.

It’s scandalous, hedonistic and, above all, unprofessional.

That last one stings the most. Professionalism is her middle name

Actually it’s Pepper, but professionalism might as well be her middle name.

Yet, here she is.

Pepper tries to type up the report for sector 7G on cost effectiveness of their recent experiments. But Natasha sucks on her clit, hard and Pepper types out a mess of letters, “Report to sector 7laksdjf;fm..”

"Nat please," She whispers, hoping the figure under the desk hears her.

She can swear she hears a muffled sound of laughter at that. But it can’t be. Natasha's mouth is otherwise occupied.

Well, her mouth and her fingers. 

As her skillful tongue lazily licks the wetness between Pepper’s legs, her fingers brush the lips with soft caresses. Her dangerous hands are nothing but tools for Pepper’s pleasure.

"Such a damn tease," Pepper mutters and tries, oh god how she tries, to pay attention to her work.

She sits at an odd angle, so Natasha can reach. Her back is reclined and her legs spread wide open under her desk. She feels a bit silly. A bit conspicuous. The figures walking by her office must know she’s getting eaten out by the world’s best super spy.

But they barely look at her. And to be honest, that’s a little hot too. Pepper looks around, to make absolutely sure that no one is walking by and she reaches a hand into her shirt and into her bra. She takes a nipple between her fingers and squeezes it, lightly. 

But no, that’s not quite right.

Natasha is a _biter_. Pepper wishes Natasha would come and bite down on her hard little nubs but then everyone would see. So instead she takes it between her thumb and finger and pulls until a delightful wave of pain goes through her body.

She moans and jerks, her knee hitting the desk, which makes her jump up, just a little. 

Pepper looks around quickly, sure someone must have noticed something. But no one has. 

Natasha pulls at her legs, trying to get her back into position.

"Come here, красивый, I’m not done tasting you.” Her voice is thick, her words sticky around the edges. She kisses Pepper's inner thigh wetly.

Shaking, Pepper does just as she requests and Natasha gets back to work.

Along with her tongue this time, she adds one finger. She crooks it and slowly, oh so slowly, pushes it in and out. While she does this, her talented little tongue picks up the pace. It flutters in quick little gestures.

Pepper lays her head back and moans. God, this was supposed to be a quickie. She’s got a meeting in 20 minutes and Natasha’s taking her own sweet time.

So Pepper takes matters into her own hands. She reaches under her desk and gives her lover’s head a little push, making her tongue press against Pepper, sending waves of pleasure through her. She moans loudly and admonishes her lover, “Sorry, but could you make this quick?”

She shouldn’t have said that, because then Natasha takes her clit between her teeth and bites down.

Ah, the pain is so ripe. Pepper thrusts into her mouth over and over, begging with her body for more.

And Natasha complies. She sucks and licks her clit, as in in apology and just when Pepper thinks the savagery is over, she nibbles again. And again.

Nat adds another finger and picks up the pace. She begins her long hard thrusts, still sucking on Pepper all the while.

Pepper is all but gone at this point.

Forgoing all thoughts of politeness and decorum, she thrusts her lover’s head between her legs with abandon.

There are three fingers inside her now and she feels so full…too full. It’s too much, too perfect. 

She feels the tightening in her lower belly. Her heart beats faster and her breath is uneven. 

"Ohh… Oh yes… Oh Nat that’s perrrrfect you’re so perfect. Please make me….please…ohhhhhhhh."

She feels the liquid squirt out of her, no doubt into Natasha’s willing mouth. 

Natasha slowly puts Pepper’s legs down and crawls out from under the desk.

The only thing Pepper can think is “wow, how can she look so poised crawling out from between my legs like that?”

Natasha gives her a brief smile before grabbing a Kleenex from off her desk and wiping her glistening mouth with it.

She then grabs Pepper’s water bottle and takes a long swig.

"Have a good day, sweetheart," Nat says, coming over to Pepper’s side of the desk and giving her a chaste kiss on the cheek.

"You….you too." She says, fumbling to put her underwear back on.

Natasha leaves, as if it never happened.

Pepper tries to breathe but it’s difficult. So she practices, in and out, in and out. 

Then the smell hits her. Anyone who walked into this room would know what happened.

So she reaches for her phone and calls her secretary, “Hi, Janet, can we put the Robinson meeting in conference room 3? My room’s a little, messy.”

She hangs up the phone and tries to get her breath back before the meeting.


	14. Comfort and Control

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hulkeye- the Hulk/Bruce kink divide" requested by 51pegasib
> 
> Warning: Explicit Sexual Content

What no one understands about Hulk is that he needs constant reassurance. Clint only truly learned this when they started having sex. The big, terrifying monster had looked at him in abject terror when he took Clint’s cock in his mouth.

All he knew to do (then...he's come a long way because Clint has been a really good teacher) is to suck and even then he was terrified of messing it up.

"Mmm so good baby, you have such a good mouth. So wet, so warm…suck a little harder, sweetheart. Yeah…just like that." Clint moaned and saw the relief sweep over Hulk’s features. 

He grabbed a handful of Hulk’s curls and pulled, just a little, “So good, you’re soo good to me.”

He opened his eyes and saw Hulk jerking off with one large hand.

The louder he moaned, the more he praised his large green lover, the more furious he was with his own dick, the louder he moaned. And Hulk has the loudest moan of anyone Clint’s ever fucked.

In the afterglow, Clint realized that it has to do with fear. Hulk lives in a world that’s so breakable. Where he’s constantly afraid the people he loves will crumble in his grasp. That he’ll hurt Clint, when all he wants to do is make love to him.

He keeps that in mind, weeks later, when Hulk finally agrees to fuck him.

With every thrust he gives out praise and instructions, like “Oooh, aim a little to the le—-” and as Hulk does, Clint makes sure to be extra loud, almost comically so. “YES! OH GOD! FAST LEARNER! GOTTA LOVE A FAST——mmmmm” 

"How’s this?" Hulk asks, reaching around to pump Clint’s dick, slowly in a massive green fist.

"Mmm yeah. pull at the head a little. Ohh yeah. just like that. You’re so good at this." Clint says, burying his head into the carpet. "Made for sex."

Hulk lays his head on Clint’s back. His other hand is on Clint’s hip and he squeezes. Clint let’s out a harsh gasp at that and Hulk pulls his hand away. And starts to pull his dick out until Clint protests.

"No buddy, Please." He breathes in and out, trying to concentrate on words, "Come on, that…that was a good noise. I like it. Mark me."

"Doesn’t hurt?" Hulk asks. The fear is so strong it almost makes Clint sick.

"It’s a good hurt. Such a good hurt."

With that, the hand is back and Hulk’s thrusts are a little harder, a little faster.

"Oooh yes, fuck me. Just like that. Oh, yes." 

Hulk growls at that, gripping Clint’s hip harder and pulling Clint onto his dick while he thrusts. 

Where once was soft lovemaking, there is now animalistic fucking. Which, Clint knows, is just because he’s asked for it. If he wanted soft and sweet, Hulk would be sure to give him that too. 

He wonders, after being with Hulk over and over, when Hulk will feel safe to ask for what he wants. 

His other half doesn’t have that problem.

Where Hulk needs comfort, Bruce aches for control. He takes control with any number of things. Sometimes it is his words, when he tells Clint to “Strip and get down on your knees” to which Clint always replies, “Yes doctor.”

Then he gets his examination. First Bruce examines his mouth, “For any sign of disease. Wouldn’t want to get sick, you know.” Like that’s any problem for him.

Then he’ll say something like, “Well you’ve been a good boy so far. Let’s do a little test of your skill.” and he’ll calmly unzip and pull his dick out.

"Now Clint, you’re going to lick my cock, is that clear? No sucking until I say." Then Bruce takes Clint’s jaw in his hand and pulls his head up. 

Clint licks what’s presented to him, making long strokes from root to tip. He swirls his tongue around the head, making sure to get the pre-come in his mouth.

The vein on the side of Bruce’s cock is just begging to be sucked, but Clint refrains. He doesn’t have permission. 

Other times simple command isn’t enough and he takes control with his toys. Clint can’t count the number of times he’s been tied to the bed and spanked for his “insolence” or “potty mouth” or “attitude” and then had his lover open him up with his tongue. 

And he is always called “Doctor” or “Doctor Banner” during these scenes. It’s Doctor when it’s something simple like the word commands or a little spanking.

It’s Doctor Banner when he’s in for a very intense night – A night that comes with nipple clamps, ball gags and fisting. 

Or pretending to be a (very valued and protected) love slave. Who gets chained and whipped and fucked very ruthlessly by his owner, the prestigious Dr. Banner, who owns every inch of Clint’s body and loves to see his property marked.

Later, Clint has time to ruminate about both of them, his two lovers. It seems as though their personalities switch when sex is brought into the mix. Bruce becomes confident and powerful, while Hulk is left nervous and over anxious to please. 

It gives the phrase, “two sides of the same coin” a new meaning.

Clint wonders, in the sexual part of his mind, if that means that the praise and instruction is a kink for Hulk and not just something to calm his nerves. If so, they might just need to work some new rules into their little arrangement. Maybe getting around to explaining safe words to the big guy.

And talking about kinks. And rules.

Shouldn’t be too bad, Clint thinks to himself, Hulk always enjoys instruction. Maybe he could be rewarded for being good for teacher.

At that image, Clint makes up his mind. He races through the tower looking for Bruce.

It’s gonna be a long, and hopefully very informative, night.

  
  



	15. Hookie

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pepper/Coulson, scheduling sex, because they have to" requested by 51pegasib

They sit in Phil’s safe house, phones in hand. Pepper’s cozied up to his hip and her brow is fraught with concentration.

"How about this Wednesday? I’ve got some time after the Peterson meeting at 7:30."

"AM or PM?" He asks. 

"AM."

He shakes his head sadly, “Doesn’t work. Got a meeting with the kids at 8.”

Pepper smiles. “Which kids?”

"The kid heroes, Spider-Man and the rest." 

"Ah." She says.

"How about Thursday afternoon?" Phil asks. "I have a thing later that night but until then I’m free."

Pepper pouts. “That doesn’t work. I’ve got this big conference on Friday and have this really beautiful one sleeve dress I’m going to wear. Can’t be showing off rope burns.”

Phil cocks an eyebrow at her. “Is that what we’re negotiating?”

She nods. “Well yes, isn’t that what you were thinking?”

"I thought it was going to be a little more soft and sweet. We haven’t done that in a while. With the bubble bath and smooth jazz."

"But we did that last time, don’t you remember?"

"When was that?" He asks rather shortly, "Christmas?"

"Valentines day" She says without pause. 

"Sometimes I wish we weren’t so responsible." Phil mutters, scanning frantically through his planner. The first open date he sees is in a month. 

"But isn’t that what you love about me? How responsible and upstanding I am?"

"Well that and the thing you do with your tongue."

She laughs. “Does this weekend work at all?”

He sags in his seat and lets out a pathetic whine. “Secret mission.”

"What’s the use of being a spy then?" She asks, putting her planner down. "I mean, James Bond doesn’t have this problem!" 

"Yeah well James Bond doesn’t have to fill out the paper work."

He can’t help feeling defeated.

"What about now?" She asks.

"What?"

"Right now. I’ve got a meeting with Tony in about an hour."

"Doesn’t give us any time to cuddle and we both know how you love that."

She smacks him on the knee. “That’s not just for me you know. You love it too. And maybe….” She trails off.

"Maybe what?"

She gives him a grin. “Maybe this once I could play hookie.”

He stares in shock. “You mean it? You, skipping a meeting?”

"Yes. Yes I do. It would serve him right with how many times he’s done the same to me. It’s better than waiting, don’t you think?"

He leans over and gives her a kiss. “Definitely. Let’s play hookie.”


	16. Lucky

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Dr. Pepperony-third sexual encounter" requested by 51pegasib  
> Warning: Contains sexual content

His hands aren’t shaking (like the first time they did this)

He deftly unbuttons his shirt, slowly but with grace.

Hell, with arrogance.

Bruce Banner is giving them a striptease.

Well, as far as Bruce Banner has ever done so.

Tony sucks on Pepper’s neck while she watches. She taps on his shoulder. “You need to watch this, Tony.”

"Mmm?" He asks.

"Watch the big man strut," She whispers back.

So he removes himself from her, which she immediately regrets. And lays on his back.

"Oh….oh shit." He whispers reverently.

Tony is only in his boxers. Pepper is shirtless. This is what they’ve figured out that Bruce likes. He wants them to get warmed up before he becomes part of the game.

It relaxes him to watch.

It’s a reassurance, that if he can’t do this, if he’s too scared to touch and taste his lovers, then he can watch them pleasure each other.

But now it’s their turn to watch.

"Holy shit Banner," Tony says, "Take it off."

Bruce is halfway shirtless. He smirks and moves right in front of Tony, knee to knee.

"Sit up." He commands.

That is not the Bruce they’ve slept with before. 

Tony does so eagerly.

Bruce leans down and grabs Tony’s hair, tilting his head upward. Then he savages his lips. It is a kiss of complete ownership. 

Pepper gets up off the bed and lets her skirt drop. She gets behind Bruce and kneels to talk into his ear. “Mind if I join this party?”

Bruce breaks from the kiss and Tony licks at his swollen lips. “Can she Bruce? This is getting to be a real sausage fest. Not that I’m complaining.” He trails off, and lightly caresses Bruce’s hard cock through his pants.

"Mmm. Yeah, Pep. Anything you want." Bruce moans, turning his head to look at her. 

Slowly, oh so slowly, Bruce lets his shirt drop to the floor.

"Well then," Pepper says, and reaches around to caress his stomach. She takes a nipple between two fingers and rolls it around. "Better take care of Tony, Doc. He gets impatient."

"Of course," Bruce says, turning back to him. He puts his hands on his pants and then stops. "You want me to take my pants off Tony?"

Tony gives him a look. “Of course.”

Bruce practically purrs his response. “Are you prepared to earn it Tony?”

Oooh, that tone. Pepper can’t help herself. She takes one hand off Bruce’s well toned stomach (he’s gained weight and muscle mass since becoming a part of their relationship, she realizes.

She slides it in-between her underwear and flushed skin. She’s teasing herself, because her boys are occupied.

And she finally allows her fingers to slip between her wet lips and caress, not penetrating just yet.

It’s what Bruce would do, she knows. It’s what he likes. And what he is now confident enough to demand.

"Yes, Oh god Banner, let me earn it." Tony begs. That’s what he likes. All over eager and panting for it.

"On your knees then," Bruce says grabbing Tony’s hair.

"You know," Tony says, scrambling to get into position, "We go any further into this, we’re gonna need a safe-word."

Bruce’s sounds nervous. “Would you like that….to get further into this?”

Pepper’s crooking one finger into herself, thrusting it slowly in and out. She takes her other hand and lazily traces Bruce’s happy trail.

"I for one would love it," Pepper says, kissing his ear wetly.

"Hell yeah, Bruce" Tony says, nuzzling the hand that’s now at the side of his face. "All you gotta do is ask, baby." He kisses Bruce’s hand and looks up at him with all the innocence and trust he can muster.

Bruce pushes a thumb into Tony’s mouth and whispers, “Suck it.”

Tony does so, eagerly.

While Tony does that, Bruce looks back at Pepper.

"I never thought…."

"Never thought what?" She asks. She adds a second finger and gasps, taking a moment to breathe before letting her other hand drift to Bruce’s erection. She strokes it lazily while he speaks.

There’s a sharp intake of breath at that and she squeezes. He thrusts into her hand.

"I never thought you’d want that, with me."

Tony lets Bruce’s thumb pop out of his mouth. “Why the hell not?”

Pepper gives his impressive package one parting squeeze and wraps the hand around his waist. She pulls him closer to her.

"Yeah Bruce. You know what happens when you assume."

Bruce shakes his head. “Oh I don’t know. Why would you want the Hulk to rough you around in bed?”

Tony laughs. “But you’re not him, although that does sound kinda hot. You think he’d be up for it?”

Pepper knows that’s not something Bruce wants to even consider right now. But it does sound hot.

Oh god, She’s becoming more like Tony.

"But still." Bruce says, trailing off. He strokes Tony’s hair away from his face. "How could you go to a place like that with a man who could tear you apart?"

Pepper answers for the both of them. “Because we trust you. That’s the whole point, isn't it? Tony and I trust you, Bruce. To order us around, bring us to our knees and make us do what you want. Because we know you won’t hurt us.”

"Yeah," Tony pipes up from the floor. He starts nuzzling Bruce’s hand again. "And we trust the big guy. You have all that strength….that you could use against us but won’t, unless we ask. And I for one am prepared to  _beg for it."_ Tony lazily licks Bruce’s hand, from wrist to thumb.

Bruce moans at that.

"Maybe next time," He whispers. His voice has gone hoarse. 

"Definitely next time." Pepper says from behind him.

Tony stops what he’s doing and smiles. “Look at you big man, finally talking about what you want. Third times the charm, right Pep.”

"Mmm yes," She mumbles, kissing Bruce’s shoulder. 

"We’re so lucky," He says, reaching for Bruce’s pants.

"So so lucky," She echoes.

She swears she hears Bruce mumble, “I’m the lucky one” before he pulls Tony back from his crotch, “Didn’t you hear me, Tony? You have to  _earn_  that.”


	17. Clarence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Bruce: Lonely Christmas Past" requested by 51pegasib  
> Warning: mentions of suicide.

Bruce watches the snow drift lazily onto the street. It's better than looking at the dead flies caught at the bottom of his window. 

He hears sirens but refuses to investigate. That way only leads to trouble. Crime apparently doesn't take a break even on Christmas.

He doesn't have the good fortune to be able to afford lodging in the good part of town. 

He got the money to afford this place through some of his old fashioned computer hacking skills. His good conscience couldn't suffer him to steal enough money for a comfortable hotel.

In the back of his mind Bruce thinks this is exactly what he deserves. monsters and freaks shouldn't parade in 5 star hotels like they're somebody.

There are gunshots and the  _thing_  inside him bristles at that. He looks below his window and sees some guy running to a car. The man breaks into it and after messing with it for a bit, flees.

Then there are cops. 

Bruce quickly moves away from the window and pulls the curtains over the window.

They are dingy white, frayed at the edges. 

He sighs and gets into bed.

Bruce forces his body to relax, though his skin crawls at the idea of sleeping here. He has no idea what kind of state the mattress must be in, but he's just glad he doesn't posses a UV light or luminol. 

He reaches over and grabs the remote. His TV still has rabbit ears, for God's sake. 

The picture is fuzzy but he can still make out the smiling face of Jimmy Stewart. 

He's contemplating suicide, so he hasn't missed much.

It's the only reminder of what today is for Bruce.

He can hear his mother gushing over this man. Her love for Jimmy Stewart movies was legendary. 

A love she could only practice when his father was away.

His grip on the remote tightens. 

Clarence shows up and starts to take Jimmy on his journey to the possible future. And Bruce hates him for it.

Why can't that bastard leave Jimmy alone?

It's none of his goddamn business if Jimmy wants to end it all. 

None of anyone's goddamn business. 

The thing inside him gets antsy, again. Stupid interfering bastard.

"Not going to try that again." Bruce says out loud. He feels stupid for it too. Like the mindless freak in him could even understand his words.

The thing's irritation builds and Bruce clenches his fists. And then it quickly goes away.

He breathes loudly, again and again, until he feels less off kilter.

The more Clarence talks about how wonderful life is, the more Bruce wants to punch him in his smarmy angel face.

But he can't stop watching it. He feeds off his anger at the angel, at Jimmy for believing his lies.

It is most definitely not a wonderful life.

And the creatures that rescue you are not angels.


	18. Hot Mess

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Pepperony: The Christmas (observed) after the end of IM3" requested by 51pegasib
> 
> I kind of went way out of left field with that prompt. Oops.

The radio plays “Rockin’ Around the Christmas Tree” as Tony attaches another wire to her head.

"I feel fine." She says. 

Well not completely fine. She is cold.

That’s because she’s laying on a gurney in her bra and underwear.

Tony gives her an irritated look. “You’re not fine. That extremis shit gives the people who take it a bad case of being blown up.”

"But I didn’t."

He shakes his head and adds another wire. He fiddles with the monitor and frowns.

"Brain waves are still too erratic. Core skin temp’s too hot." 

"Killian, for all his crazy, did say I was a success."

"Yeah, before you went all red and blew  _him_  up.”

Pepper sighs. “Yeah, to save you. Perfectly normal and not at all psychotic.”

Tony turns to face her. “You sure about that?”

"Yes, Tony, I’m sure. The only thought going through my mind was saving you. No malice of thought."

He frowns at her. “You’re turning red, Pep.”

"Because I’m angry." She pulls at her restraints and he moves back a step.

"Cool down Pepper, I’m not the enemy here."

"Then why are we doing this?" She all but screams. "Why do you have me chained down? Just like he did?" She feels power coursing through her veins and it scares her.

Her entire body shakes and the heat….oh god the heat.

"Maybe you don’t want me to have this power?" She says, in a voice that is not all her own. "You don’t want me to be able to defend myself. You want me to be physically weak. Dependent!" She spits out.

He abandons the monitor and rushes to her side. Taking her face in his hands he says, “No. God no. Pep, if you….fuck if you can survive having that shit in your system…I just want to find a way for you to control it, babe. So it doesn’t eat you up inside and control you like this. 

I don’t want you at the mercy of some drug.”

She feels her skin cool down, just a tad. “You don’t want to get rid of it?”

He shakes his head. “No. If it’s not hurting you, if you can learn to control it, completely.”

She lets her hands unclench and tries to breathe. What was it Bruce says, ‘I let the anger flow through me, the power. I acknowledge it and that I have control over it. I own it. It does not own me.”

"I own it," Pepper whispers, "It does not own me." She looks at him. "I’m sorry babe, god this is kinda scary."

He takes her hand in his. “Don’t I know it.”

"I…Oh god. I’m ruining Christmas." It’s all she can think to say. For some reason it seems vitally important.

Tony busts out laughing. “Well I’ve ruined my share of holidays.

"No but…I turned all grr on you and…I am not gonna turn all red and hurt you, alright? I can learn to control this."

He kisses her forehead. “I don’t doubt that for a minute. Now let me run a few more tests and we can do something fun.”

Pepper smiles. “Unless that means hot cocoa and cuddling on the couch, you can forget it. I don’t have the energy for it.”

Tony rips the wires off her head. “Hot cocoa and cuddles it is then.”


	19. I'll Never Tell

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hulkeye: Situations where Clint and Bruce get on each other's nerves" requested by 51pegasib

He loves Clint, with every inch of his body, mind and soul.

And yet….

And yet Clint is the quietest bastard he’s ever met.

He practically glides into the room and until he’s close enough to smell, Bruce has no idea he’s there. 

He can be mixing chemicals in the lab and then all of a sudden…

Boom! Clint’s right there, in his face, asking “Whatcha doin’, doc?”

Or reading a book and then…

Boom! There’s a super-spy in his lap. His book goes flying, the tea in his cup splatters all over the place and he finds himself making a very unattractive squawking noise.

He’s Hulked out over it countless times.

Even though he’s told Clint, over and over again, that sneak attack hugs are not a good idea.

"But Jolly Green loves my hugs." He says with a whine. "Just showin’ him a little love."

"Can’t you do that without scaring the shit outta me?"

"Nope."

If he did have a Hulk inside him, Bruce thinks he would have died of a heart attack months ago.

* * *

 

Clint is head over fuckin’ heals in love with Bruce.

It’s one of the best relationships he’s ever had.

But the man has no concept of fuckin’ time.

He can spend hours with his nose in those test tubes and in front of computer screens and his mind just goes….blank.

So blank that he forgets countless dates with his super sexy boyfriend.

By the time Clint’s taken off his suit and hung it up, crawled into bed and dozed off, Bruce comes running like he’s on fire.

His dress clothes are half haphazardly thrown on, his hair standing up in all directions.

"Clint!" He bursts out. "Clint I’m ready! Sorry I took so long in….the…." Then he notices Clint’s form in the bed.

"Oh….oh shit what time is it?"

Clint rolls over, turns on the light and gives him a look, “Three hours since our reservations ended.”

"Three….why didn’t you call?"

"I did." He says. "I called, I texted, I had JARVIS send an alert."

"You did?" Bruce asks, trying to tame his hair, "I didn’t hear anything. Oh god…I’m so sorry."

His face is pure fear. 

"Nevermind Doctor Banner," Clint says, "Just get undressed and come to bed."

Bruce gives him a look of defeat and complies.

So Clint takes to getting all dressed up, ordering a full course meal and heading to the lab.

With a little push and pull, he gets his date.


	20. Good Influence

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Clint/Bruce: 3 ways that Clint is good for Bruce and 1 way Bruce is good for Clint." requested by 51pegasib

**1\. Bruce’s relationship with Hulk.**

It’s Clint who starts what he calls the “Hulk is an alright guy,” Blog. 

The team supports it wholeheartedly, even Natasha, which is surprising.

"And here," Clint says, waving his arm in front of the computer screen like someone showing off the grand prize on a game-show, "We have footage of Hulk letting a little girl take a ride on his shoulders."

"She’s screaming Clint!" He shouts.

"She’s laughing. Look, Hulk’s laughing too."

Bruce inwardly flinches at that, his large teeth look menacing even in an expression of pure joy.

Clint shows him videos all night. He tries not to be swade. And yet he finds himself letting Hulk out more often. Which gives Clint more content for his blog.

**2\. Bruce’s relationship with the team.**

"I don’t dance." Bruce says, as Clint pulls him along.

"Who doesn’t dance?" He asks. "Everybody dances. Come on, it’ll give you an excuse to cop a feel."

"Do I need an excuse?" Bruce asks with a smirk as he pats Clint’s ass.

"No, but still. The whole teams goin’, wouldn’t be the same without you."

"Even Steve?" Bruce asks.

"Especially Steve. He’s never been dancing. And have you seen what people call dancing nowadays? You should come along just to see the look on his face. I guarantee some girl’s gonna be grinding up against that all American package within ten minutes."

Bruce feels guilty for laughing. “Are you sure we should be doing that to him?” 

"Of course. Embarrassing your friends is totally a thing. It’s called bonding."

So they go. And Bruce has the time of his life. The entire team embarrasses themselves, in one way or another. They come home as a group, laughing and stumbling and closer than ever.

**3\. Bruce’s relationship with sleep**

"Time for bed babe" Clint says, bursting into the lab.

"Jus a few more minutes." Bruce says, mumbling his words.

"No. A few more minutes will turn into a few more hours. I’m tired of sleeping in bed alone."

Bruce sighs at that. 

"But this is important Clint."

"Well so is sleep, Bruce. Come on. Sleep time for Bruce. You can play with Tony’s toys tomorrow."

Bruce thinks up a smart ass remark to that, but he yawns instead.

"See, told you. You’re coming with me."

And with that, Clint drags Bruce away to bed.

**+1 Clint’s education**

"Have you been studying that physics book I got you?" Bruce asks, over his salad."

"Yeah, a bit." Clint mumbles and then looks away.

"That means you haven’t. Look Clint, I know you’re smart, but if you want to get your GED…."

"You sure about that? That I’m smart? I haven’t been in a classroom since Elementary school. I know how to shoot things and sneak into places. Not exactly rocket science."

Bruce shakes his head. “Because you didn’t get a chance to. You have a big brain, Clint.” Bruce taps Clint’s forehead. “Right. Up. There. Completely capable of understanding high school science.”

"Says the guy who understood this shit when he was 5." 

Bruce takes Clint’s hand in his own. “Would it help if I taught you some things? I have taught a class or two.”

Clint turns away, blushing a little. “I don’t know Doc. I’m afraid.”

"Afraid of what?"

"That you’ll run away when you realize how stupid I am."

Bruce grabs his chin and makes him turn his head. “You’re not stupid, it’s just that no one ever bothered to teach you these things. You taught yourself how to work that bow and now you never miss. That didn’t come over night, did it? It came with practice and failure and more practice. This is just like that. I know you can do it.”

"You know it? Is that a fact?"

Bruce nods emphatically. “Yes I do. And I’ve been told I’m relatively smart. So you should believe me.”

Clint finally smiles back. “I’ll try.”

Clint takes to Physics and Math like a duck to water, once he has an empathetic and patient teacher. He develops something he never had before.

A joy of learning.


	21. Lights

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Hulk/Betty, first Christmas together" requested by hulksmashingpumpkins.

Bruce assured her it’d be fine.

"True I haven’t had that many good Christmases," He said, helping her to decorate the tree. "But I think I can handle this. I’m finally getting Hu—the other guy under control and I’ve got you back in my life," He wrapped one arm around her. "It shouldn’t be a problem."

But it was.

Oh god, it was.

He bought some extra glass ornaments to hang on the tree, the traditional red and green. While he was hanging them up, he got this weird look in his eye.

"Bruce" she said, putting her hand on his shoulder, "Bruce are you alright?"

He didn’t act as if he heard her. “Bruce….” She called again.

Bruce didn’t move.

Instead he stared at the red ornament in his hand like it held the secrets of the universe. Then he started to shake.

"Bruce, Bruce!" She screamed, taking a hold of his shoulders.

And he tripped over himself trying to get away.

"Get away from me!" He cried, his voice sounding higher than usual.

"Bruce, it’s me." She said, crawling closer and trying to make her voice sound sympathetic.

"Don’t hurt me!" He screamed again. 

"Bruce I’m not going to—-" She looked at him, really looked at him. He was squeezing the ornament in his hand, hard. "Bruce don’t do that, you’re going to."

And it shattered.

Big globs of blood were pouring from between his fingers. He looked at it, dazed. “Why did you….” He trailed off, almost calm.

And then he growled.

"Bruce!" She screamed again. "Baby, come on. I didn’t do that, you did. Remember me, Bruce. It’s Betty. You know me, you trust me you…." But it was too late.

The muscles in his body rippled, as did his clothing. The shirt stretched and stretched until it exploded. His arms and legs began to shoot out, growing and turning green.

She did what he warned her to do, before. She crawled back and made herself as small as possible.

After what seemed like hours, Hulk was in front of her.

He jumps up and snarls. “WHERE’S THE BAD MAN?” He screams. “HULK FINALLY GETS TO HURT THE BAD MAN!” 

Betty spoke up, her voice meek. “The bad man’s dead, Hulk. You know that. Bruce just got scared. It’s like…” How could she explain a flashback to Hulk?

"Bruce had a bad dream, Hulk. It was a special kind of bad dream, one that you have while awake. In that dream, the bad man was alive but he isn’t. He died."

_Bruce killed him._

Hulk sniffs the air around him. He lets the shattered ornament drop. “Bad man dead?” She’s about to respond before he answers himself. “Bad man is dead.” He shakes his head. “Hulk remembers now.”

"Yes," She says, standing up slowly. "The bad man is dead. There’s no reason for you to fight anything. ok?"

In three strides he’s in her face. “Betty?” He sniffs her, making her hair fly back, just a little. “Yes. Betty.” With that he takes a deep breath.

 _He’s relieved._  She thinks. And then she smiles.  _That can only mean good things for me._

She pats him on his arm and he leans into the touch, like she figured he would.

He’s as touch starved as Bruce was when they first met.

"Hey Hulk, do you want me to clean that up?" She asks, pointing to Bruce’s blood on his hand. The would has just about healed up, something that still amazes her.

He looks down at his bloody hand and then jumps away from her.

"Hulk. Hulk it’s ok" She says, moving forward. "I’m not going to hurt you."

"Betty stay away!" He orders. "Hulk’s blood isn’t safe! Don’t touch!" He holds his good hand in front of him, warding her off.

She stops in her tracks.  _Oh, so that’s what he’s doing._

"Do you want to wipe it off yourself then?"

Hulk nods. “Hulk don’t like blood.”

She smiles. “Not many people do.”

It’s good that their kitchen is right across from the living room, she’s there and back in a matter of seconds.

"Here you go," She says, stretching her arm out. With lightening fast speed, he grabs it and begins cleaning the floor where Bruce bled out, before wrapping his hand in the towel.

"Thanks." He grunts at her. Then he looks around, confused.

"What now?"

"Excuse me?"

"No fight, but Banner still hiding, what does Hulk do now?"

"Well," She says, moving to sit on the couch. "What do you want to do now?"

He takes a deep breath. “Hulk….Hulk doesn’t know.”

Then she gets an idea. “Hey, have you ever seen Christmas lights before?”

Hulk tilts his head at that before saying, “No”

"Well," she says, leaning forward, "If you take that cable," she points to it, "and plug it into those little holes in the wall, Yes that’s it," She says, smiling. 

He is a remarkably fast learner. 

"Now press the button on the cord. And then look at the tree."

Hulk moves back when it lights up. For a minute it seems like he’s going to attack all their hard work, but when no threat appears, he stands still, large mouth agape.

"Christmas lights?" He asks, in awe.

"Yes, those are Christmas lights. Do you like them?"

"Beautiful," He says, not taking his eyes away from the tree. 

"I think so too," She gets up and goes to sit beside him on the floor.

"When I was a girl I used to stare at our tree all night until I fell asleep, then my dad would carry me up to bed." She sighs wistfully. 

Hulk grits his teeth at the mention of her father, but doesn’t say a word.

"Banner never had happy Christmas like that," He says. "Hulk never have Christmas at all." 

"Well you have one now." She says, patting his hand. Quickly he takes her hand in his large one and squeezes, but not painfully.

"Betty want Hulk to stay out? Not want Banner?" 

She shakes her head. “I want Bruce out eventually. But the lighting the tree and eating cookies, I think that should be yours, Hulk.”

He turns to look at her, finally. “Cookies?”

"Yes, cookies. I do that for Christmas every year."

He smiles. If she wasn’t used to him, she’d be scared of that large expanse of teeth. “Hulk likes Christmas.”

She smiles in return. “I thought you would.”

He looks at the tree and then back at her. “Betty prettier than the lights.”

She can’t help but laugh and he looks hurt. “I’m not laughing at you. I was just caught off guard. That was a very nice thing to say.” She gives him a kiss on the arm. “Thank you, Hulk.”

He lifts her hand up to his lips and kisses it. “Welcome, Betty.”


	22. Two Steps Forward, Three Steps Back

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Steve brings his new girlfriend home to meet the team. Bruce is shocked to find it's Betty Ross." requested by rpepperpotsshipssciencebros.
> 
> I went a bit out of left field with the prompt but I hope it still satisfies.

It’s a good thing he can’t get drunk. Even with his distaste at the mere thought of alcohol, Bruce thinks today, of all days, would be the time to get shitfaced.

He expected Betty to move on. He just assumed it would be with that Leonard Sampson. 

Or someone else he didn’t know.

Didn’t respect.

Didn’t live with, for Christssake. 

He stirs his tea faster and faster just thinking about it.

At least she did him the courtesy of calling first before she pursued anything. 

"I know you two are close and I just wanted to make sure it was alright." She said into the phone.

"It’s perfectly fine, Betty. He’s a great guy." He responded back.

If that wasn’t fucking stupid. 

But who was he, really, to get in the way of her happiness? And it wasn’t like Captain fuckin’ America isn’t a good guy.

He’s one of the greatest guys. He’d be sure to treat her real swell.

He giggles to himself at that. Swell. That’s what Steve called Betty. Only then he didn’t really know what she was to Bruce. Only this “really swell lady who works with the military laboratory that adjusted Falcon’s suit.”

By then he was half in love with her. Bruce couldn’t blame him on that one either.

To be sure, Steve could give her a better life. They’d have beautiful, non green babies together and live in a house with a nice lawn and the white picket fence.

Sure, Steve would be in the basement breaking every punching bag in site, bottling up his issues, but he didn’t have Bruce’s issues, did he?

Steve never had to be afraid of killing his wife or children in a psychotic rage. 

Of passing down defective genes that, if it didn’t kill his future offspring or debilitate them for life, would turn them into monsters.

Hulk grumbles in the back of his mind at that. He feels a sadness there and an anger. Hulk loves Betty too, Bruce reminds himself.

He wonders what’ll happen the next time he fights off an alien invasion with Steve.

The image of Steve being Hulk smashed only makes him mildly happier.

He draws his phone out of his pocket. This feels completely childish, stupid even. But his friend’s dating the love of his life. And if that isn’t high school drama, nothing is. So he can be forgiven for regressing to this, just a bit.

He calls Tony. “Hey Tony, are you busy?”

"That depends, what do you have in mind?"

"Something that involves a picture of Steve, a dartboard and massive amounts of food and recreational drug use, possibly while blasting really awful music."

Tony is quiet for a moment. “Only if you promise to give me all the details as to why we’re doing this and if we get to blow some shit up first. I’ve been itching for some light pyromania.”

Bruce smiles at that, “Sounds like a plan.”

The anger and sadness still course through his veins, but dammit he’s gonna do something about it, before facing the shit-storm that is his life.


	23. Puppy Love

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "IronGammaHawk, Tony and Clint surprising Bruce with something really sweet." requested by ladyerinatthespeedoflight

The little dog squirms under Clint’s hoodie. Tony looks at the lump in his shirt with a combination of curiosity and fear. 

The man fights off monsters, aliens and gods and he’s terrified of a little dog. 

"What is it with you and pets?" He asks.

Tony squirms. “There’s nothing with me and pets. I have an intense lack of experience with them, so therefore no angsty past that can be blamed.”

Clint turns to look at him. “Are you serious? Not even a fish?”

Tony shakes his head. “Not even fish. Apparently I wasn’t trusted to take care of them or something.”

Clint reaches under his hoodie and pets the little pup hidden there. She nips at his fingers.

"You’re still alright with this, right?"

Tony scoots closer to him on the couch. “Of course. You’ve seen how Bruce lights up around dogs. And since someone else took in his last dog….”

Clint pipes up. “It’s not just him. Hulk loves dogs too.”

Tony looks at him. “Really?”

"Oh yeah," Clint nods emphatically. "We were fighting Hydra once and he just stops in the middle of getting hit with freakin’ lasers, just to get this dog untied from a hydrant and off to safety."

"Tell me you got video of that."

"Well yeah, it’s adorable as fuck."

"Send it to me. I’ll make sure all the appropriate news outlets get a copy."

Clint smiles at that. The other Avengers don’t really think about it much, But Tony’s Mr. Spotlight, focused on cleaning up their lover’s good name.

Well lover’s(s). Clint flinches at his thoughts. Man, grammar gets hard when so many people get involved.

"Dr. Banner is currently waiting outside for permission to enter."

"Give it to him, J." Tony responds.

Clint reaches out and squeezes his fingers. “Pets aren’t hard, ok Tony. You just gotta be patient, love them and make sure they’ve got what they need.”

"Patience isn’t a strong suit of mine."

"Well Bruce has enough of that for the both of us. And you’ll do the other things easily enough. Look at how you are with Bruce and me."

Tony squeezes Clint’s hands back. “Such a charmer.”

"Am I interrupting something?" Bruce asks. 

Tony smiles. “Never, babe.”

Clint gets up and tries to command the puppy to stay still. “Yeah, we wouldn’t get up to anything where we wouldn’t want you to join in.”

"Oh? So what’s that in your jacket?"

Tony gets up and gestures to it. “Would you believe it’s his demonic conjoined twin?”

Bruce shakes his head. “I’ve seen too much of Clint’s body to believe that.”

"Alright fine, ruin the surprise why don’t you. Barton, present the creature."

Bruce frowns at that. “Creature? You mean the Fish head things left something?”

Tony and Clint smile. Clint reaches into his hoodie and the puppy squirms in his hands. He holds her around her chubby belly and presents her to Bruce.

She’s a pug puppy, surprisingly full of pep for the breed. She lets her little buggy eyes take in the human in front of her and her tiny nose sniffs the air around him.

Then she promptly licks his nose and starts to move around, trying to get at him.

Bruce reaches for her without thinking. “What’s this about?” He asks, while scratching behind her ears.

"This is about you, Bruce," Tony says, walking up behind him. "Meet your new puppy. She doesn’t have a name yet. Got her from a shelter."

Bruce stops scratching and the puppy nips at him for it.

"Why?"

Clint grabs Bruce’s hands and puts the dog in them. “Because of the way you smiled when you saw her?”

Tony strokes Bruce’s shoulders a bit. “Yeah Banner. We love you, we want you to be happy. Dogs, as we have seen, make you and Hulk happy, ergo here is your dog.”

"Mine…" Bruce starts and then stops. For a minute his eyes turn green. "Ours" He says in a slightly deeper voice. The dog tilts her head at that, sniffs him again and then promptly licks at him.

Bruce shudders a bit and gains control of himself. “I think we’ve got Hulk’s answer.”

"And yours?" Clint asks.

Bruce hugs the dog to his chest. “I love her already.”

Tony laughs. “You didn’t even fall for me that fast. I’m a bit hurt.”

Clint hits him on the chest. “Yeah and look, she’s already a better kisser than me I think we’ve just been replaced by a dog.”

Bruce walks up to him, his face a mask of seriousness. He slowly puts one hand behind Clint’s head and pulls him in close. His lips barely touch Clint’s, content enough to slide over them, to feel his lover breathe. Then he pulls back and does the same to Tony, though Tony pulls him in tight and plants one on him.

When Tony finally lets him go, Bruce takes a breath and then says, “I could never replace you, either of you.”


	24. The Buffy Question

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Marvel Ladies get together (slumber party seems too simplistic but my brain is simple sometimes) Some are more "friendly than others. Your pick of the women. :)" requested by toomuchhorrorbusinessii
> 
> Warning: this is my first time writing any of these characters. So I apologize for any OOC. Also there is a bit of character bashing, but don't friends laugh about each other's bf's and ex bf's?

Jean looked around to make sure no one was watching and made her drink move to her hand. The women gathered around her gave her varying looks of amusement and annoyance.

"Why do you have all the cool powers?" Janet Van Dyne asked. She was wearing a classical strapless black top, with pearls. 

Jean gave her an almost parental look before continuing. “I was born this way. Though in the past I wish I wasn’t.”

Jennifer Walters snorted into her drink. “And some of us, like Jan and I, were accidentally turned into bad-asses.”

"But we can’t move things with our mind," Jan continued. "And flying and being able to read minds," She said, pointing an accusing finger at Jean.

"You can fly too, sweetie," Jennifer responded. 

"But it’s not the same. I can’t read minds. Why couldn’t Hank have had a lab accident with something that causes mind reading? That’s what I’d like to know."

"Believe me, sometimes it isn’t worth it." Jean piped up. "When you first realize you can hear what people think, you can’t shut it out. You hear the most terrible things. You think it’s going to drive you insane."

"Like that episode of Buffy?" Jan asked, smirking.

"What?" Jean asked.

Jennifer looked at her in shock. “Buffy. You know, _Buffy the Vampire Slayer_. A tiny highschooler with the power to fight vampires and sleep with sexy men?”

Jan laughed. “A bit like you, Jen, except for the tiny part.”

Jennifer did a little shake of her hips in her seat. “You can say that again.” Then, turning to Jean. “I can’t believe you haven’t seen Buffy.”

"Is it good?" She asked the girls.

"Is it….it’s like the premium show a female superhero should see. You’ve got the burden of saving the world and trying to live a normal life, the dangers of battling the worlds evil and trying to dress wonderfully at the same time." Jan said, counting off her points on her fingers.

"Oh," Jean responded, abashed. "I guess I should see it then."

"Well yeah," Jan said, "You could definitely relate. Especially when it comes to the whole choosing between highly powerful sexy men."

Jean took a drink of her water and then promptly spit it out. “Excuse me?”

"Oh you know, The dark and sexy one that brings out your wild passions vs the good boy who makes you feel normal." Jan said with a smile.

Jennifer looked at her, confused. “Wait a minute. Who are we comparing Scott to?”

"I don’t know, really. I started that out with Logan as Angel but who would Scott be?"

Jennifer drummed her fingers on the table a bit, lost in thought.

"Girls, can’t we talk about—-" Jean started before Jennifer interrupted her.

"Oh I know. He’s Riley."

Jan made a face. “Yeah, he’s Riley.”

"Who’s Riley? Is that a bad thing?"

"Well…." Jennifer began.

"Yes," Jan interrupted. "Well not bad as much as…."

"Boring." 

"Boring?" Jean asked, shocked. "Scott isn’t boring."

"And self righteous." Jan continued.

"He isn't!" Jean objected. 

"He kinda is," Jennifer supplied.

"If you want self righteous, you should look at Hank Pym." 

"What?" Jan asked, flatly.

Jennifer snorted loudly and then covered her mouth.

"Self righteous and sad. He just walks in and sucks the life right out of the room."

The two looked at each other as if daring the other to say something.

"Hey," Jen piped up, "Why don’t we make fun of the guys I’ve dated? God knows I do enough."

They both turned on her and gave her a grateful look for stopping a potential fight.

"You know an alternate universe me slept with Juggernaut, right?" 

They both burst out laughing.

At least they weren't fighting. And over something so silly. Besides, the more Jen thought about it, the more she realized they were wrong. If anything, Wolverine was Spike in the scenario.


	25. Pancakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Tony and Bruce cooking dinner" requested by featheredschist
> 
> note: I forgot the prompt said dinner so I made it breakfast instead, though I guess you could eat pancakes for dinner.

"I think I’m going to regret this."

Tony gave him a blinding smile. “Isn’t that what you said when you agreed to date me?”

"And look where we are now." Bruce grumbled.

"Oh come on. If you can’t teach me how to cook, I figure no one can."

"Well," Bruce said, getting out the pans, "Can’t we just say no one can and leave it at that?"

"No!" Tony exclaimed. "Don’t you know that cooking is one of the few things I’ve never excelled at after studying it? I can learn rocket science in like a week but this, mixing and cooking things…something that cavemen did for godssake, this is going to beat me?"

Bruce sighed. “Ok then. But if you end up making pancakes with Hulk you’ll only have yourself to blame.”

Tony smiled. “Hulk can cook? I didn’t know that.”

"He can actually."

Tony stopped smiling. “Really?”

"Yeah. Deer, pig, chicken, he’s really good at cooking meat. He can just sense when it’s done enough."

Tony looked at him in awe. “That’s because he can smell the blood, isn’t it?”

It was one of the downsides to Hulk’s existence, Bruce figured out. He could smell blood from miles. And though it did help him know where the trouble is, the big guy had found his share of bloodied corpses.

"That’s what we think."

"Huh, so Hulk can do something I can’t."

"He can also use cars as boxing gloves. So don’t let that get you down."

Tony started putting the pancake mix together.

"No, Tony. You use milk for that. And not that much, you’ll end up with mush."

"It’s not that," Tony said, picking up their conversation. "I just…it’s interesting. Hulk, who used to think thunder was gunshot, knows how to cook. Do you think that means something?"

"Like what?" Bruce asked, grabbing Tony’s wrist and moving his arm in slower, steadier motions.

"I don’t know, maybe cooking is an instinct."

"Like avoiding thunder?" Bruce responded, turning the burner on the stove down, so Tony wouldn’t burn breakfast.

"Like that. Maybe people just have knack for cooking that I don’t."

Bruce shook his head at that. “No. I think it’s nurture more than nature. You weren’t raised around cooking. Or taught that it was a skill you needed in life, therefore it’s harder for you.”

Tony looked at him. “And you were raised around cooking?”

"Not really. I mean I’d watch my mom sometimes. And on my own it was mostly anything cheap and easy. But once I went on the run, it became a necessity."

"So you’re saying I just need to go out into the wild and I’ll know how to cook?" Tony asked, leaning over to sprinkle some chocolate chips into the mixture.

Bruce grabbed his wrist to make him stop. “Well, either that or starve to death.”

Tony let the chips fall back into the bag.

"Hmm….So then you definitely need to teach me. If I’m ever starving in the woods I’ll need to know this shit."

Bruce couldn’t help himself. He grabbed Tony by the waist and pulled him close.

"No you won’t."

"Really and why is that?" Tony asked, turning to look at Bruce.

"Because I wouldn’t let you run away alone. And I can cook."

Tony mulled that over for a bit. “And so can Hulk, apparently.”

Bruce kissed him on the shoulder. “And so can Hulk.”

"That’s sweet and all, truly, but I can’t let fucking pancakes beat me."

Bruce just sighed and gave up.

And when the pancakes turned out to be a burnt mess, he held his nose and ate them anyway.


End file.
